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WHO: Aleron, Gwenaëlle, Bethany
WHAT: Al promised a souvenir, he's delivering it and some good ole fashioned big brothering.
WHEN: Backdated, midmonth
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: TBD

Busy busy busy. Aleron's been wrapped up with running hither and fro for months now, with nary a moment to rest, much less squeeze in visits with his little cousin. It is a problem he's decided to rectify now. However, there's the matter of the fabric Gigi had asked for before he'd taken off for Perendale. The gift is painfully overdue. He can't quite take credit for the selection either, as Bethany had a hand in helping.

Thank the Maker for Bethany.

So, she's been invited along with the delivery of the softest velveteen that could be gotten in Nevarra. It's a deep sable in color and the bundle is tied with a deep plum ribbon. The merchant had insisted it would make a fine accessory to whatever the young woman intended for the material, though Aleron had gotten the impression the man had thought it was for Bethany instead. Perhaps he should have gotten more for her?

Either way, he's expecting a scolding for having been away so much of late. Hopefully the fabric will smooth things over.

But he's still not alright with the realization that the little girl that used to sit on his wife's lap is now a woman grown in her own right. Old enough to want nice fabric and have opinions about his courting someone. Where have the years gone?

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And this is one of the very many reasons that Bethany is so terribly good for Aleron: she excels at keeping him from sliding into extended brooding. Sometimes he does rather wonder if it's an equitable relationship since she brings so much light to his life and he has so very little to offer in return.

Her small hand in his draws a faint twitch of a smile out of him. It's huge for breaking his typical expression of complete lineface. He lifts her hand and places a chaste kiss on the back of it, but then refuses to relinquish hold of it. Having her there to ground him outside of his thoughts is a blessing.

"I was thinking how old I've grown. Gwenaëlle used to be this tiny child who liked to sit on laps and have her hair braided." And play with Mirielle's rings, but that hardly feels like an appropriate detail to discuss at present. "How is she old enough to want fabric for gowns?"

What he brings to her is immeasurable - it is the steadiness and strength of his affections that bring her peace, and joy. The way those lips twitch up at the corners, how his blue eyes light up faintly. That she is special, to one person, is all Bethany ever really wanted. She dimples at the chaste kiss, and those dimples deepen as he continues to hold unto her hand.

"Because time passes on, my love. We all grow older. Sometimes I look in the mirror and wonder where that wide-eyed young maid has gone, who lived a simple farm life." That was nearly fifteen years past ... Maker, so long ago. She gave him an affectionate glance. "I think it grand, actually. That she has an older brother to help her through these difficult times. I can't think what I would have done without Nathaniel when I was in my twenties."

Gwenaëlle -

had forgotten. For a moment, when she opens her door to see Aleron and a stranger standing in front of it (Bethany, her mind supplies blankly, probably this is the Bethany that he talked about) she can't quite catch up to why they're probably there. Only after that first breath, when she's registered what he's carrying and recalled the conversation they had before he went traveling, does she think it isn't as if he isn't allowed to just visit her.

She's ... looked better. It's small things, more than anything else; nothing so dramatic as old clothing or messy hair, just something a bit drawn about her around the eyes, the paleness of having not ventured out into natural light a great deal, that in addition to ceasing to wear any rings or bracelets after her anchor-shard was acquired she's not bothered to wear any other jewelry, either.

And there's a nug sleeping outside her door, but that's a longer story with a shorter punchline. (The punchline is named Yngvi.)

"--hello," belatedly enough to be awkward. "Would you like to come in?"

"You're still beautiful, Bethany," he offers as reassurance. Though that tiny detail she dropped makes him wonder, what will she want of their life once they are wed? Endridge was rural enough with the family's sheep husbandry, but would she want to go there? Would he? Had it been too long?

Only the door opening prevents Aleron from edging back into a contemplative brood. Another is coming, if only because the Gigi who meets his eyes looks unwell, and immediately he blames himself. The man spent years looking for subtle signs in people's faces and thus the strain is impossible to miss.

He hesitates to answer her invitation, wondering if the timing is poor. "If this is an inopportune time... I shouldn't like to impose."

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sorry i'm late y'all!

also late >_>